“No, SEEEE someone.”
“Over my dead body. Doctor’s orders. No visitors,” she said, walking to the foot of the bed and grabbing his foot.
“Can we feel this?” she asked, jabbing a needle into the sole of his foot.
Durham jerked his foot away. The sudden movement brought back the stabbing pains in his chest.
“Excellent.” Nurse Scalzo smiled again and was gone.
Durham remembered why he recognized Nurse Scalzo so well. He couldn’t forget her. She looked and sounded like a bosun he knew once. His name was Scalzo also, and one night he’d single-handedly dispatched a squad of burly marines to the dispensary for making unkind comments about the nude tattoo of his girl on his forearm. He called her Sweet Pea. Although they might be related, Nurse Scalzo would never be confused with the gentle, affable bosun.
§
Eickhoff sat in the backseat of the black Chevrolet sedan the embassy had placed at his disposal. Knowing that it would be over in an hour, he relaxed and enjoyed the scenery as they made their way through the winding, crowded streets on the outskirts of Athens. The week since Javert’s death had started in a panic, but now his plan was thought out and prepared. His only obstacles were Commodore Stoner and Meyers, but he could handle them. The Farnley unknowingly had fought back against Marathon, and he would quash her insurrection today.
Eickhoff felt no remorse over Javert’s death. Remorse had no place in the heart of great military leaders. It was something the bleeding-heart admirals back in Washington didn’t understand. All great military leaders, like himself, assumed power by climbing a mountain of dead and wounded. So far, casualties had been light, and Javert was an insignificant loss.
Eickhoff thought Javert’s death ironic. If Javert hadn’t blown his brains out, he wouldn’t have had an excuse to inspect the Farnley and discover why her efficiency rating and morale had been climbing. As soon as he got word of Javert’s death, he put together a fifteen-man inspection team to turn the Farnley inside out and tell him exactly what was going on. If the man who had almost destroyed Operation Marathon hadn’t killed himself, Eickhoff would never have had the chance to save it. Perhaps Javert wasn’t worthless after all; ironic.
It was important that the men on the Farnley be kept in the dark, and the investigation into Javert’s death provided the perfect cover. Even adding two JAG officers to the inspection team, ostensibly to protect the rights of potential suspects and ensure that the investigation into Javert’s death was conducted legally, went unquestioned.
Eickhoff was especially proud of that little added touch of intimidation. When they were told that the investigation would be far reaching and investigate the possibility of foul play, it frightened almost everyone except the officers. Terrified they might be implicated in some type of cover-up, they talked and talked and talked.
He quickly learned everything he needed to know, and the inspection team had been sent home yesterday. Today, in the presence of Commodore Stoner, he would present the findings of his investigation.
At the bottom of the hill, the car stopped at the coastal highway intersection. In the distance, the refineries at Aspropyrgos lined the shore of Elefsis Bay. Eickhoff turned to his left so he could see the Skaramanga shipyard where the most serious threat to Operation Marathon had begun.
The shipyard had given Lee and Ross a base of operations for their exploits that came dangerously close to tainting Operation Marathon and opening his conclusions to question. Hopefully, his inspection uncovered it in time, and things could be restored so no one could contest his findings. He’d been tough on the Farnley, so his conclusions couldn’t be questioned. Operation Marathon would succeed. Today he would neutralize Ross and Lee, then negate the damage they had done.
§
Commodore Stoner waited in the Farnley’s wardroom with Meyers and Lieutenant Pew. Stoner reached for one of the white coffee cups clustered around the coffee service and poured himself a cup. As he held the silver coffeepot, he nodded to Meyers, who had been staring into his empty coffee cup for several minutes. Meyers waved the offer off with a small movement of his hand.
Stoner knew how Meyers felt, and if he had a choice, he wouldn’t be a party to what he guessed was going to happen. Stoner didn’t have a choice; the Farnley was part of his squadron, and Eickhoff needed at least one other flag officer for his investigation.
Over the past few days, Eickhoff had rankled Stoner. When Eickhoff briefed him on Operation Marathon over a year ago, the operation had seemed a bit extreme, but he quashed his questions when Eickhoff told him it was Durham’s pet project. Stoner knew Durham by reputation as a straight shooter and one who wouldn’t mount something as extreme as the Farnley’s treatment without reason.
Now he wasn’t sure he had the information straight. Over the last three days, he’d developed a healthy dislike for Eickhoff and Pew. Eickhoff had acted secretively during the entire investigation and withheld most of the inspection reports from him. Eickhoff hadn’t even told him what the findings would be. He was part of the inquiry board in name only. This was Eickhoff’s show from start to finish. Eickhoff was trying to hide something or protect someone, and it certainly wasn’t Durham.
The last few days had made one thing clear to Stoner; the inquiry had little to do with Javert’s death. By noon the first day, the entire investigation was centered on Lee. Javert had been all but forgotten. Eickhoff’s agitation over what Lee had done went much further than technical legal matters.
Stoner interceded on Lee’s behalf by reminding Eickhoff that what the Farnley had been through couldn’t be considered normal by any stretch of the imagination. In his view, Lee had done exactly the right thing, regulations and Operation Marathon be damned.
§
Meyers had the opportunity to observe Eickhoff and Stoner carefully and reach some firsthand conclusions. As an admiral, Eickhoff had let Meyers down. Eickhoff’s single-minded pursuit of information to support his conclusions was the antithesis of what an admiral should be. Eickhoff wasn’t to be trusted.
Stoner’s behavior over the past few days was everything Meyers expected from a commodore. Stoner looked and acted so much like a commodore, he seemed born to the position.
The whole investigation had depressed Meyers, and trying to guess what Eickhoff would do had depressed him even more. He would gladly accept any finding Stoner reached without question, but Eickhoff was another issue.
Meyers was emotionally exhausted and was glad it would be over soon. The admiral would do his thing, and in a week or two, a new captain would show up, and life would go on. He didn’t care what happened to him, but he was concerned about what had happened and would happen to the Farnley.
News of Javert’s death had swept through the crew like a freezing wind that had reduced the magic he had seen to no more than scattered, bitter ashes. The heavy-handed witch hunt by Eickhoff’s henchmen had dealt the death blow. Now every man looked sullen, gripped by drifting impregnable loneliness, and melancholy consternation darkened every expression.
When Eickhoff entered, Meyers, like the others, stood and waited until Eickhoff seated himself at the head of the table. Eickhoff flipped the flap that covered the top of his briefcase and retrieved a thick folder of papers.
He looked at each man and began, “I’ll dispense with the formalities in this matter if that’s agreeable to all those present.”
No one moved, so he continued. “There are several matters that we must dispose of today. The first is the finding concerning the circumstances surrounding the death of Captain Javert.”
Eickhoff opened the folder, turned over the first sheet of paper, and began reading from the typewritten page. “It is the finding of this board that, although the information is mixed, we can find no information positively linking the death of Captain Javert to an act of suicide.”
What is this? Meyers asked himself. He looked at Commodore Stoner and saw the perplexed look on his face.
Eickhoff kept on reading.
“Furthermore, we find no evidence of foul play and completely exonerate all crewmen of the Farnley of wrongdoing. Finally, then, this board rules the death of Captain Javert an accidental shooting.”
Stoner almost came out of his seat. Meyers could see his face was red. “I object,” Stoner began, trying to control the tremble in his voice. “The evidence indicates otherwise. The gunner’s mate who cleaned the gun said that Javert never kept the clip in the gun.”
Stoner took a deep breath and resumed in the same controlled voice. “The pictures and the message were taped to the desktop, and from the position of the body, it’s highly likely the man was kneeling when shot. The only reasonable conclusion is that it was an act of suicide.”
Seeing that Stoner was through, Eickhoff said, “However, the absence of a suicide note indicates otherwise.”
“What about the message taped to the desk?” Stoner asked.
Eickhoff covered his mouth with one hand and thought for a second.
“It’s in the best interest of the man and his family that we not leave a bad mark beside his name. We can’t prove it was suicide, so there’s no purpose in burdening his family with such a terrible accusation. It’s the only honorable thing to do.”
Stoner was about to speak again, but Eickhoff leaned back in his chair and cut him off. “The findings of this board are final.”
The room fell silent as the two men stared at each other. Meyers watched the standoff intently. If Stoner couldn’t carry the day, anything he could add wouldn’t help. He’d prepared himself for almost any “finding,” including this one. In a way, it did make sense on humanitarian grounds, but what had happened to the truth?
Eickhoff reached for a coffee cup, and while he poured himself a cup, he asked Meyers, “Are Mister Lee and Chief Ross standing by as I requested?”
Meyers had a sudden urge not to answer the question, but since it would do no good, he replied, “Yes, sir, they’re waiting outside.”
Eickhoff turned to the next sheet in his folder and looked up at Pew. “Would you please escort them in?”
Pew jumped up and returned with Lee and Ross, who came to attention at the far end of the table. Ross looked apprehensive. Lee’s happy appearance hadn’t diminished, but his eyes were silent and filled with concern.
“I don’t know where to begin with you two,” Eickhoff began in mock exhaustion. “I have a list here, three pages long, of navy regulations you two have broken.”
Eickhoff fingered several of the sheets of paper in front of him. “You two have misappropriated government property. As best we can determine, that was almost six hundred gallons of, of all things, maple syrup. You have, against regulations, manufactured parts. You have, against regulations, procured parts and supplies from sources outside the navy supply system using maple syrup as currency, then you two went blithely ahead and used these parts in your engine room.” Eickhoff looked up at the two men. “Is this correct?”
“Yes.” Lee’s voice was clear and unequivocal.
The warmth of the blood rushed to Meyers face. He couldn’t believe what was happening. “May I speak, Admiral?” Meyers asked.
Eickhoff glared at Meyers. “No.”
Meyers ignored the rebuke and continued, “I knew what was going on. I permitted it. If you’re going to hang them, hang me first.”
The comment brought immediate reactions. Lee’s mouth dropped agape, Ross grinned, Stoner nodded, and Eickhoff yelled, “You’ll be silent, Mister Meyers.” He turned back to Lee and Ross. “Did you know your acts were against navy regulations?
Silence.
“Answer the question.”
Ross tried to speak, but Lee cut him off. “Yes, I did.”
“Admiral,” Ross said.
Eickhoff cut him off. “You’ll have your say in a minute, Chief.” To Lee he said, “Mister Lee, I find only one thing admirable in your actions. You used the engineering log with impeccable grace. You meticulously documented every deviation from regulations and cited what was done and why. In addition, you logged every entry as a direct order to protect Chief Ross and your men from their illegal acts. In a way, I have to thank you, Mister Lee, because your entries were so thorough, you made our inspection easy. Tell me, Mister Lee, was this your idea or a conspiracy?”
“It was my duty,” Lee replied.
Simultaneously, Ross said, “It was a conspiracy.”
“Admiral, I object to your insinuations. These are two of the finest men I’ve had the honor to sail with,” Meyers yelled.
“That will be all, Mister Meyers,” Eickhoff yelled back, then in a normal voice continued, “Before these proceedings get out of hand, let me be clear on one matter. My findings are not open for discussion nor debate. They’re final. No amount of arguing will change that. I understand that the past few days have been difficult for you, but don’t make matters any worse than they are.”
Stoner slowly rose to his feet and addressed Eickhoff. “Admiral, I insist that your final report indicate that I dissented in this finding.”
Eickhoff didn’t flinch.
Stoner continued, “Furthermore, I request that I be excused from the remainder of these proceedings.” He pronounced proceedings with obvious disgust.
Eickhoff’s face turned pale, but he gave no other outward sign of his reaction. “You’re excused,” he said casually.
Lieutenant Pew began to stand, and Stoner turned to Eickhoff and said, “Admiral, tell your puppy-dog bitch to sit. I can find my own way out.”
Stoner, whose eyes had turned cold and calculating, was way out of line, and was asking for Eickhoff to come down on him hard. Meyers knew he was testing Eickhoff and deliberately trying to create an incident Eickhoff would avoid only if he had something to hide. Eickhoff ignored Stoner’s insubordination.
On his way to the door, Stoner glanced at Meyers as if to say, You saw it, too.
Eickhoff cleared his voice and turned back to Ross. “Chief, I ought to have you drawn and quartered for what you’ve done. However, considering your service record, the fact that you have only a few more months left in the service, and that your superior worked so diligently to protect you legally, I’ll let this pass, but you’ll receive an official letter of reprimand that will be made part of your service record. Do you have anything you wish to add, Chief Ross?”
“Yeah, I mean yes, Admiral. Did your inspection team find one unsafe item? Just one?”
Eickhoff looked down at his papers. “You’re excused, Chief.”
“He’s right, Admiral,” Meyers said. “Did your inspection team evaluate what the safety of the engine room would have been if they hadn’t done what they did?”
“Chief Ross, you’re excused,” Eickhoff insisted.
“I’d rather stay,” Ross said defiantly.
“Excuse me, Admiral, but may I speak to Chief Ross privately outside for a minute?” Lee asked.
“Yes,” Eickhoff said after a second.
Lee pushed Ross through the door. Meyers listened to the sound of the heated argument outside the door and wondered, What other surprises does the admiral have up his sleeve?
Lee returned alone and came to attention at the far end of the table. Eickhoff resumed as if the interruption had never taken place. “Mister Lee, I understand that you’re single, live on the ship, and don’t have an apartment here or anything. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Admiral.” The concern in Lee’s eyes intensified as if he were bracing for the fatal blow.
“Mister Lee, do you understand how serious the charges are against you?” Eickhoff asked.
“I wasn’t aware that I was charged with anything.”
Eickhoff looked at Lee carefully. “Mister Lee, this isn’t funny. I could have you court-martialed for what you’ve done. However, I’m going to chalk this incident up to the misguided actions of a young, inexperienced, and overly exuberant officer. Nevertheless, I can’t just ignore the situation and will place a letter of censure in your file.”
> “That’s not fair, Admiral. That effectively kills any chance the man has at promotion or a career if he wants one,” Meyers protested.
“Admiral?” Lee asked.
“Yes.”
“With all due respect,” Lee said slowly, “I request the court-martial.”
Eickhoff blanched and visibly recoiled as if he’d been hit in the face. Good for you, Lee. Meyers thought. You got him.
Eickhoff cleared his throat while he pulled pensively at his ear with one hand, then in a slow, unctuous voice replied, “I was concerned you would say that and unduly hurt yourself, so I had my JAG officers research the matter. You have no choice in the matter, Mister Lee. You will take the letter of censure.”
He’s lying, Meyers thought. Out loud he said, “That’s not right.”
“Believe it, Mister Meyers,” Eickhoff said, then turned back to Lee. “There’s one other thing. I’m directing that you be transferred immediately. You’re to be off this ship within an hour.”
“Admiral.” Meyers yelled.
Eickhoff raised his voice to be heard over Meyers. “Mister Pew, escort Mister Lee to his quarters, help him pack, and escort him off this ship. He’s to report to the air base for transport to Naples, where he’ll wait reassignment. Here are his travel orders.” Eickhoff handed several sheets of paper to Pew.
Lee’s eyes betrayed his bewilderment at what had happened, but his smile had returned. As he followed Pew out the door, Lee glanced soulfully over his shoulder at Meyers.
Meyers was aghast. He didn’t know what to say or think. It was several seconds before he realized that Eickhoff was speaking to him. “Mister Meyers, I have good news for you.”
“Huh?”
“Effective immediately, you’re the commanding officer of the Farnley. Congratulations, Captain.”
“What? Why? That’s not regular. I don’t understand.”
“It’s not necessary for you to understand. Let’s just say that under the same circumstances in wartime, you would be appointed captain. So you have it. The Farnley is yours. You can move your things into the captain’s cabin anytime you want.”
The Marathon Watch Page 23